


The Light Will Guide You Home

by wings_g_leviosa



Category: IT (2017), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Happy Ending, I promise, M/M, Pilot Ben, commander bill, ex stoormtrooper mike, general beverly, jedi eddie, mentions of the gangs parents, pennywise as snoke, pilot/ force user stan, sith richie, this one is kinda dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:43:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings_g_leviosa/pseuds/wings_g_leviosa
Summary: Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…Darkness is on the rise. Darth Assem the Wise has begun gradually over taking the galaxy with his Neibolt Regime. As his power grows, so does the power of his apprentice, the fearsome Darth Fide. With the demolition of the Jedi, the public is quickly losing hope.Meanwhile, General Marsh and the Rebel Alliance struggle to keep the Regime on a short leash. With the rumor of a hidden Neibolt base on the abandoned Sith planet Korriban, they have made quick plans to follow up on the intel.All they can do now is hope the force is with them...





	1. I

Beverly forced herself to breathe, ignoring the sound of pilots rushing around the bay in preparation for the mission to come. She stood in a well hidden alcove, wringing her hands. She fidgeted with her dress, rubbing the long white taffeta between her fingers. If her hair hadn’t already been carefully braided about her head, she would have surely been nervously yanking at the rusty strands. She only felt herself relax once the person she was waiting for finally slipped into the rivet with her.

Ben was already wearing his bright orange flight suit, face slightly ruddy with the exertion of last minute repairs. Beverly felt all of the tension bleed out of her shoulders.

“Everything ready to go? Ships functioning and all that?” she asked, pretending for a moment that that was the reason she was truly there. He smiled, broad shoulders shaking slightly as he chuckled at her nervous expression. 

“Bev, everything is fine. And it’s going to be fine.” He gently placed his calloused hands on her shoulders, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs. “I’ll be fine,” he whispered. She nodded, allowing Ben to pull her into a gentle embrace.

The pair’s meetings had become more and more frequent in the months before the upcoming mission. It would have been unfair to say that Beverly didn’t love the whole of her crew, but she especially loved Ben. Since they were children, he’d provided a much needed comfort, and had continued to do so even after they were called upon to take their parents’ place in the Resistance. Along with Bill, they’d spent their whole lives together. 

The thought of that no longer being the case caused deep, grey inducing worry. 

In a rare moment of vulnerability, she stood on her toes to rest her chin against Ben’s shoulder, palms resting against his shoulder blades. He held her close in turn, not pulling away for many long moments. 

“May the force be with you,” Beverly whispered, placing a hand against Ben’s whiskered cheek. He smiled, placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and moved to walk back into the hangar bay. 

“I don’t need it, not with my best girl leading the way.”

And with that, he was gone. 

She waited for several minutes before finally making her way back toward the bridge, forcing her back straight and chin up. The mark of a leader. The mark of a general. 

That was, until she was knocked off her feet by someone rushing past. She hissed as her palms smacked against the cold floor, a few strands of her red hair falling from her braids. Ignoring the deep rouge blooming on her cheek, she pushed herself up. 

“Excuse me, just… oh, Bill, it’s you.”

“O-o-oh, B-bev. I’m s-s-“

“Bill, breathe please. What’s the rush?”

“S-sorry. Just... headed to the bridge.”

Beverly sighed, placing a gentle hand at Bill’s elbow and leading them along to their mutual destination. 

She could tell that her friend was nervous; she understood completely. Bill was one of the Resistance’s most coveted commanders, a fearless leader and pilot. On the surface at least. 

“You ready for this?” She asked, attempting to retain a calm facade. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I s-suppose.”

“Good. We need you out there today.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence. 

“Ben likes you, y-y’know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Then why-“

“Bill, I hate to say this, but it’s really none of your business. Besides, I already have the eyes of every crusty old man with power in the galaxy on me. Dating my subordinate will not do me any favors.”

Bill shut his mouth, and Beverly was sorry for it, but she didn’t need to worry about personal matters. She had much larger, more important fish to fry. 

Being a general was hard enough. Being the successor to your abusive, controversy inducing father was even worse. The pressure of maintaining a spot free leadership record was enough to make a weaker man crumble. 

Beverly Marsh was no man. 

Every spine on the bridge straightened just an iota as she strode in, Bill following silently at her heels. She immediately began scanning the monitors to ensure every single detail was in order. 

The mission was simple. The old Sith planet Korriban was rumored to be home to a small Neibolt Regime base. A small fleet comprised of the Resistance’s best fliers were going down to the desert planet to confirm the rumor and collect intel. It was estimated to only take a few hours.

But Beverly just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more happening. Something not quite right. She was forced to ignore it; she couldn’t just cancel an important mission based on a feeling. 

Bill was quickly re-briefed on the mission objectives. Before long, Beverly was forced to bid her friend luck and farewell, resisting the urge to nervously gnaw on her thumbnail. 

The cruiser shuddered as they exited light speed, the burnt orange desert planet floating ominously before them. Beverly steeled herself as their fleet shot down toward the sandy landscape below. 

“Red Leader checking in. Approaching the surface.”

Everyone watched with bated breath as the ships landed in sight of the base, hopefully far enough away to avoid being seen. 

“This is Captain Uris. Permission to relay scanners?”

“Permission granted, Stan. Any sight of this base yet?”

“Diagnostic incomplete. I’ll run it again just to be sure.”

Beverly gritted her teeth. 

“Anything from you, Bill?” 

“A lot of nothing. It’s completely desolate.”

“Wait, I think I’m getting something. Red leader, come look at this.”

Beverly rushed to the monitor displaying the scanner. She could see something quickly approaching the group of ships. 

But comms suddenly became silent. 

“Red leader, what’s your status?”

Silence. 

“Red leader, come in.”

More silence. 

“Uris, give me a report.”

Silence for several long, painful moments. Finally communications crackled to life, but the response left Beverly’s insides ice cold. 

“Oh, you rebels. Always sticking your noses where they don’t belong.”

She practically punched the response button in her hurry to answer. 

“This is General Beverly Marsh of the Rebel Alliance. Where is Commander Denbrough?”

“Eh, couldn’t say. Will you settle for a captain?”

The sound of shuffling was heard as the comm device was moved.

“Stan? Stanley is that you?”

“Bev, run. It’s a tra-“

He then made a strangled cry, and the device was moved again. 

“Well, General Marsh, he’s right. You just lead your team into a trap.”

The only sound that followed was the deafening roar of static.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MK- 0029 had never once disobeyed orders. He had never once questioned the Regime, never once thought of anything other than following the word of his leaders. 
> 
> Never once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank You guys for giving this a read. I will be posting this on tumblr, and you can find it at my tumblr (londone-fog.tumblr.com).

MK- 0029 had never once disobeyed orders. He had never once questioned the Regime, never once thought of anything other than following the word of his leaders. 

Never once. 

He thought nothing of the news that he would be thrown into his first mission that very day. Until that point he’d been in charge of KP, nothing more than a janitor. He reveled in the thought of proving himself to his superiors. And that fateful day would have been his chance. 

He stood smashed between his fellow troops, regulation blaster held tightly in his hands. It was times like this that he hated wearing armor. It was notorious for trapping heat, and in close proximity like this, he was practically sweltering. 

Just then, he felt a powerful presence. A dark hooded figure pushed his way through the ranks, only his wide, rarely closed mouth visible under the hood of his robe. His feet barely made a sound against the metal base flooring. Every troop member present stood just a little bit taller, a little more attentive. MK- 0029 had only heard of this man, never setting eyes on him until now.

It was none other than Darth Fide himself, Darth Assem the Wise’s one and only apprentice.

“Anyone who looks like they might be important, bring them to me. Kill the rest,” Fide commanded them, a wave of understanding passing over the crowd. Only a few principal pilots would make it out of this battle alive, and they would not be alive for much longer regardless.

MK-0029 felt his insides clench slightly. An ugly, unfamiliar feeling. 

They all began to march forward as the giant bay doors opened. He couldn’t help but blink at the searing sunlight and bright reflection off the red sand. The troop itself was small, only about twenty of the most basic stormtroopers the base had to offer. They moved quietly through the sand, approaching the small group of X-wings and their pilots. MK-0029 was unsure how the rebels didn’t notice them marching, with either the ship’s scanners or the naked eye. Fide, who still remained at the head of the group, had a single arm raised above his head, gloved fist clenched tightly. 

Confusion was beginning to set in, but MK-0029 was in no position to say so. Stormtroopers didn’t think; they followed orders. 

“Begin surrounding them now. Remember the mission.”

They began doing so as Fide lowered his arm, and suddenly the rebels became very aware of the approaching troops. They scurried around like a small pack of rats, yelling at each other as the blaser fire burst out. 

“He’s cloaked them, he’s-”

The voice was rapidly silenced. 

MK-0029 snapped out of his daze, steadying his gun and rushing into the throws of battle. He caught sight of a man to his right, and he didn’t hesitate to aim a well placed kick to the back of his knees. The man flopped ungracefully to the sand. He tried to back away, but MK-0029 was already raising his blaster, the man’s forehead at the crosshairs.

But then he saw something. Something that caused him to lower his gun.

Underneath disheveled brown hair, sat a pair of brown eyes. Eyes that were nearly identical to the ones that MK-0029 had glimpsed in the backs of spoons and the shiny metal floors of the base. They were the eyes of someone who had lived an entire life, an entire tapestry of experiences woven together, displayed in the dark irises. He couldn’t bring himself to cause an entire history, an entire being, to bleed out of those eyes. He couldn’t be the reaper of another life. 

“Play dead,” he caught himself saying. The rebel man was quickly confused. 

“What?”

“Play dead!” MK-0029 said again, a little louder. The man obeyed, laying back in the sand and closing his eyes. MK-0029 smacked a blaster a little, feigning technical issues, before aiming and firing right above the rebel’s shoulder. He forced himself to turn away and join the ranks.

Two of the other stormtroopers pushed forward, a rebel pilot struggling in each of their grasps. One was built rather stockily, with wide shoulders and large hands. His light hair glistened with sweat and grit. The other was more slender, his curly hair matted with blood and sticking to his forehead. Fide stands in front of them as they are pushed to their knees.

“Man, I really have to sit and admire the balls on you rebels. Sending barely half a dozen men to one of the largest Neibolt bases this side of the galaxy? That’s nearly as gutsy as it is fucking stupid.” He approached the curly haired man and snatched something out of his hand. His head lolled as he made an attempt to resist, but it was a fruitless endeavor. Fide fiddles with the small silver device before speaking into it.

“Oh, you rebels. Always sticking your noses where they don’t belong.”

MK-0029 only barely heard the device’s response through his helmet. 

“This is General Beverly Marsh of the Rebel Alliance. Where is Commander Denbrough?”

Fide laughed heartily, like General Marsh had just said the world’s most hilarious joke. 

“Eh, couldn’t say. Will you settle for a captain?”

He moved closer to the rebel pilot again, holding the comm out for him. He struggled against his captor, making a last ditch attempt to snatch the comm away. 

“Stan? Stanley is that you?” the general asked, worry gently lacing her tone. 

“Bev, run. It’s a tra-“

He never finished his statement, throat forcing a strangled cry out of his mouth. He appeared to be choking, but nobody had laid a finger on him. Fide was using the force.

He lifted the comm to his mouth again, voice ever light but dripping in an unplaceable venom. 

“Well, General Marsh, he’s right. You just lead your team into a trap.”

He dropped the device to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He turned back to his captives, releasing his force hold on the curly haired man. MK-0029 thought it correct to assume this was the pilot General Marsh referred to as Stanley.

“Well, well, well, are we really being graced with the presence of the best pilot in the Rebel Alliance? The great, untouchable Stanley Uris? What a treat this is,” Fide called out to the troops, clasping his hands behind his back. Stanley looked down in possible shame. Fide then moved to the other captive, lifting his chin with a single gloved hand.

“And what might your name be?” He released his face, instead picking at his bright orange flight suit. He seemed to find what he was looking for; a name. “Hascom? I don’t know much about you.”

He paused, lips thinning impossibly in concentration. Hascom writhed uncomfortably, taking rapid shallow breaths as his mind was prodded with the force.

“Oh ho, you are gonna be super useful,” Fide finally shouted. Hanscom slumped, sweat beading at his temple. “You and good ‘ol General Marsh, huh? Oh, you like her. And I’ll bet my balls she likes you too. If she won’t make arrangements for Stanley here, she’ll definitely barter for you.”

Finally, he addressed the troops. MK-0029 felt his spine snap straight to attention.

“Bring these rebels in. This is going to really work in our favor.”  
As they all made their way back into the base, he cast a final glance at the man he had spared. Turmoil roiled in his gut, his training fighting hard against the small, bubble of differing thought singing in him. 

But, deep down, he knew he’d never be able to do what the Neibolt Regime wanted. He’d never be able to look another person in the eye, and kill them in cold blood. 

His next step would have to be a large one, and a mostly unknown one at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so for the record, this is going to sort of follow along with the plot of The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi. Not absolutely the same, and I do have my own overarching plot that is totally different. So some things like Mike's backstory, Richie's backstory, the force bond, and a few other things will be very similar to the actual movies. I'm very excited to have this all play out with these different characters and be able to have some cool relationships between characters you don't often see paired together. 
> 
> P.S. to confirm all your suspicions, MK-0029 is totally Mike. Just saying.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were going to die. 
> 
> They were going to die if Stan didn’t do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support, I really appreciate it!
> 
> Sorry this chapter took so long, but I’ve been swamped. I promise this isn’t something I’ve forgot about. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta/ boyfriend Nick. He’s great. Also thank you to Silvia for reading this chapter.

Stan woke up on their fifth day of capture to Ben pacing a rivet in the floor of their cell. Just like the day before. And even the day before that. 

His head was still pounding slightly with the trauma of having his head slammed against the side of an x-wing. The bleeding had stopped long ago, but flecks of red still clung to his dusty curls. That, and Ben nattering on to himself did nothing to help the cantina band screaming in Stan’s skull. 

They were both absolutely nasty, in Stan’s opinion. He had blood and grit caked in his hair, and the hot desert had his shirt soaked in sweat. Ben was in a similar way, the top of his orange flight suit tied around his waist. His white undershirt was stained with dirt and blood from his most recent interrogation. Ben hadn’t spoken much about what he’d endured, but he had a sizable gash in his belly when they threw him back in the cell. Stan had tried his best to patch him up using scraps of both of their uniforms, but it was not necessarily a fruitful endeavor. 

“Hey Stan, I’m curious about something.” Ben had finally stopped pacing and instead stood over Stan, an unreadable look about his brow. 

“Sure, Haystack. Shoot.” 

“That sith- Darth Fucky, or whatever his name is- he mentioned you a lot. How does he know you so well?”

Stan’s insides froze, ice creeping up the inside of his throat.

“Not to be that guy, but literally everyone on this base probably knows who I am. Got that whole ‘best pilot in the Rebel Alliance’ thing going on.”

“I dunno about that, Stan. He got kinda… weirdly personal. Like, you’d only know that stuff if you really know someone.”

“You know me.”

“Yeah, sort of. I don’t where you came from. I don’t know anything about your childhood or your parents. You just sort of showed up one day. That guy knew those things.”

Stan couldn’t give him an answer. Everything Ben said was true, and Stan knew why. He hated it, had worked his entire life to conceal it. 

Him and Darth Fide knew each other, and had for a long time. They had been childhood friends. The only friend that Fide had spared when he left the Jedi Temple and it’s students in ruin. Stan had watched on helplessly as his best friend had destroyed everything they had worked to be part of together. As the boy he’d known as Richie Tozier was left to perish alongside their future as Jedi. 

Stan spent his whole life running from his past, and it still caught up with him.

“Stan?” Ben was still standing there.

“I don’t know how he knows, Ben. Maybe he used the force or something. You figure it out.” 

Ben’s lips flattened in an uncharacteristic line, but he shambled away to continue his pacing. 

Stan hadn’t thought about Richie hardly at all since he joined the Resistance. He’d buried all of the painful memories so far that he sometimes forgot who he was before he became a pilot. He even sometimes forgot that he was one of the few left in the galaxy that could make the force bend to his will. He couldn’t very well just tell Ben this; that would defeat the entire purpose of keeping it secret. He would be lying if he said the force didn’t make him as great a flier as he was. 

A thought suddenly struck Stan’s mind, pinging around like a blaster shot. He was sure that the metal bars of their cell were some type of metal, nothing profoundly intense. If he really concentrated, harder than he had in years, he could most likely bend the bars enough for them to slip through. But something big held him back.

Stan would have to reveal to Ben that he was a force user, and Stan wasn’t exactly sure if he was ready for that sort of disclosure. He then felt immediately stupid. Would he be willing risk their lives just to protect a secret from one man?

But before Stan could even decide whether to get up or not, they heard a clang against the door to the cell. There stood a stormtrooper, helmet under his arm and face flushed and sweaty. He motioned the pair over, whispering to them once they got close enough to hear. 

“Listen, we have to be quick, or this isn’t going to work.”

“What the hell is going on?” Stan whisper yelled, gripping the bars in front of him. 

“I’m busting you guys out. I want to help.”

Ben turned to Stan with a sceptical look on his face. Stan returned it, but made a sort of motion as though he was saying this might be our only chance. Ben nodded. 

“Alright, fine. Are there any sort of ships that would be easily missed on this base?” Ben asked, running a tired hand over his face. The stormtrooper thought for a moment, eyebrows knitted as his mind rattled. 

“There should be a smallish cruiser that nobody would miss. I don’t think it has any weapons systems, but if we sneak away quietly enough, it shouldn’t matter.”

“That’ll do,” Ben said quickly, motioning for the man across them to unlock the door. He did so, placing his helmet back on his head. 

“Put your hands behind you, I’ll pretend I’m escorting you somewhere,” he whispered. They nodded, and proceeded down the long hall, free at last. 

They all walked down several long, dark metal corridors before they reached the hangar bay. Stan ducked his head, praying to something that they wouldn’t be recognized. They made it onto the cruiser with little fanfare, and Ben bolted to the controls, preparing the ship for lift off. The stormtrooper sat down and took his helmet off again. Stan was still very much confused about the whole situation; why was this stormtrooper busting them out? Supposedly just because he felt like it. 

Stan turned to him, arms crossed.

“Okay, so what’s your deal? A trooper wouldn’t just rescue us for no reason. You better not have any ulterior motives,” he said with a gaze that could cut gashes. He saw the trooper swallow, fiddling with his large hands.

“I swear I don’t. I… I…” He pauses to clear his throat. “The day we captured you was my very first combat mission. I’d mostly worked in maintenance before then. But as soon as I had my gun pointed at an actual person, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t shoot a single rebel during that battle.” He pauses again, finally turning to look Stan in the eyes. “I’ve been a part of the Regime since I was a baby. I never had the chance to think about whether or not what I was doing was right. But now I know. I want to help. I want to join the Resistance.”

His eyes pleaded genuinity the entire time, begging to be believed. Begging to do just that; help. Stan sighed and lowered his arms. 

“What’s your name?” he asked gently.

“Um… I was assigned with the label MK-0029, but that’s not really a name, I guess.”

“Of course it isn’t! Stan, get up here and help me pilot this thing,” Ben bellowed from the front of the cruiser. They both shambled forward as he mumbled to himself.

“MK… MK… how’s Mike? Can we call you Mike?” he said. The trooper’s face split into a wide, sunny grin, as though someone had just given him the world’s most meaningful compliment.

“Of course, Mike’s perfect.”

“Good, cause we don’t have time to come up with anything else. We need to get this bird in the air like, yesterday.” Stan rushed to help, not wanting to accidentally aggravate Ben. 

Ben Hascom was a normally very mellow and cheery man, but like most things, he struggled under pressure. If something were to go wrong with one of Ben’s plans, he would bust.

The ship rumbled slightly as they lifted in the air, bracing themselves for flight. Ben very carefully piloted the ship out of the hangar, and they began shooting off into the fading light. 

They all breathed a premature sigh of relief. 

Almost immediately, a scanner on the dash began flashing and beeping. Both Stan and Ben cursed under their breath, and Stan moved to take control of the cruiser. The scanner had sensed ships following them, and they could not be friendly.

“What’s happening?” Mike asked, voice becoming slightly panicked.

“Tie Fighters. So much for going out quietly. You two, brace yourselves,” Stan called out, voice strained and teeth clenched. He stopped himself from white knuckling the controls, and let out a slow exhale. He felt himself reaching out, feeling the force and letting it guide him. 

He’d have to do some intensely skilled flying in order to get them out of this alive. With no defense, they’d just have to be faster and better at dodging. 

Just then, a barrage of cannon fire was launched at them, and Stan skillfully rolled around them. It went on and on like this, tucking and rolling, dodging around every shot. Ben and Mike were turning slightly green from all of the maneuvers, but Stan didn’t really have much of a choice.

He turned to glance at them, just to check in, but that was all the distraction he needed to lose focus. A Tie fighter zoomed into view, placing a well aimed blaster shot straight into the underbelly of the cruiser. This was the moment Stan began to panic. 

Another ship flew too close, placing the final death shot to one of the engines.

Everything slowed to a crawl, Stan watching in horror as the sides of the cruiser peeled away like a reptile skin. Fire slowly bled around them, smoke seeping into their lungs. He was acutely aware of his stomach rising in his throat as the smoking ship began its harsh descent to the desert below. Ben and Mike’s faces had both dissolved into that of mortal terror, the realization of what was to come at the forefront of all of their minds. 

They were going to die. 

They were going to die if Stan didn’t do something. 

He focused his hardest to find peace as the world fell away around them. He tried his hardest to hold on to Mike and Ben. As they all fell, Stan only thought one thing as he extended his hand. 

This has to work…


	4. IV.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie Kaspbrak really hated sand. He really did. He hated how it stuck to every surface and how it grit under his shoes when he walked. It caked under his fingernails and blew into his hair. It was a deep orangish- red that stained things when wet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but this chapters a long one. 
> 
> Thanks again to my betas, Nick and Sylvia. 
> 
> Please give me feedback. I need it to live...

Eddie Kaspbrak really hated sand. He really did. He hated how it stuck to every surface and how it grit under his shoes when he walked. It caked under his fingernails and blew into his hair. It was a deep orangish- red that stained things when wet. 

But, oh, was it beautiful when the fading sunlight hit it. The grit in the air turned the sky to beautiful coral pinks and deep purples. He could see them in all their glory from his perch on his favorite cliff ledge, watching as the sun’s light slowly gave way to the light of Korriban’s seven moons.  
The ledge was the only place that Eddie could really think. It was just far enough from the small hovelish hut he called home. He lived alone with his mother, and it was far from an easy feat. She was a nervous woman, always nattering on about Eddie falling off a cliff or getting lost to the long stretches of desert. She was blissfully unaware of his little hiding place; she would have a heart attack if she knew he was sitting so close, legs dangling a good thousand feet in the air. 

But Eddie got bored. There were only so many times a day that he could tend to the small, tasteless garden they had tilled, or sweep every speck of red dirt that clung to their floor. Eddie was allowed to travel to the small trading outpost on a few rare occasions, taking his old speeder to trade for things they couldn’t grow or make themselves. Those days were his favorite. He loved looking at all the strange peoples that congregated there. Seeing a small huddle of stormtroopers wasn’t uncommon either. He would listen to them all. It was years after he was allowed to go that he began learning phrases in all of the strange languages that he heard spoken. Enough to understand just a little. He held this secret knowledge close to his heart, only to be whispered when he was alone in the dark. 

Another one of Eddie’s most treasured secrets is what exactly he traded at the outpost. While yes, he did trade with some of the wry vegetation his mother grew, he also frequently made stops along the way. There were several large sights of ship crashes, including an old dreadnaught. He was acutely aware that Korriban was once controlled by the Sith, and was the sight of their temple and such. He would dig around and snag anything he thought to be vaguely valuable, earning just enough rations and supplies to keep them afloat. His mother was none the wiser.

But Eddie’s biggest hidden thing, was the voice. The voice that filled his head when he was away from his mother and could concentrate on anything other than the buzzing that surrounded him. He would sit on his cliff and look out, hearing the flicker of a voice licking across his mind. It was only something akin to static at the beginning, but now Eddie could form actual words. If it wasn’t so clear and obvious, Eddie would have thought himself crazy. He was entirely unsure whether the voice could hear him back or not. 

That’s where he was, standing and listening closely, straining his ears. The voice was so clear; he could even hear the sounds surrounding the other end, almost like an echo. He reached out, head quickly filling with noise, eyes clamped shut in concentration. 

Then silence, like he’d been sucked into a vacuum. All he could hear was gentle breathing, a mixture of his own and that of someone else. 

“Hello?” Eddie quietly whispered, warm air ghosting his lips. 

“Hello?” Nearly an echo, but it was not Eddie’s voice coming back to him. This was someone else. 

“Who are you?” the voice asked, a tiny bit desperate. Eddie didn’t even think before he responded in turn.

“I’m nobody.”

“I think you’re wrong. You have to be more than just ‘nobody.’”

“Well, what about you? Who are you.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Nobody.”

“You can’t say that. Not if I’m not allowed to be nobody. Where are you, where do you come from?”

“I come from somewhere dark,” the voice said, the last syllable of his statement ringing in Eddie’s ears. He could almost see it, almost feel it. Somewhere with corridors, somewhere with stark blacks and reds. Somewhere that was, indeed, dark. “Where do you come from?”

“Somewhere light,” Eddie said in turn. He slowly opened his eyes for the first time, feeling the warmth of the sinking sun, feeling the sand beneath his palms. Solitude, peace, the zeal of freedom. The ever present pull. He let it flood him, and he listened as the voice felt it himself. 

But then the vacuum was gone, and the voice with it. 

The strangest thing, Eddie thought, was how it didn’t even feel like he was really saying anything. Something had done it for him, and he had just been along for the ride. Something that wanted him to connect. 

He felt that Something very often. He felt it as he listened in on the conversations between the outpost patrons. He felt it when he stood far above the deserted expanse below him. He felt it all around, but he never understood what it meant. It sometimes scared him, the things he felt through it. But he never felt lonely. 

When he lay in bed that night, he tried and tried to tune back into that vacuum, that voice and all of the cold that came with it. It scared Eddie. It scared him enough to seek it out.

He woke the next morning to his mother telling him exactly what he needed to hear; it was a day he was allowed to go to the outpost. 

He jumped in his speeder and zoomed off quick as he could.

He would have never guessed what he’d see. 

Eddie was listening, trying and trying to tune back to the dark. That’s when he saw it. The dark plume of smoke rising over the horizon caused him to steer away from his original location faster than anything. As the source of the smoke grew closer, it became obvious that it was the sight of a terrible crash. What was once a cruiser of some sort lay in ruin, smoke billowing out in a terrifying cloud. 

Eddie leapt from his speeder, sure footed steps keeping him from slipping on the sand. As he drew nearer, he noticed three figures lying in the hot sun. 

“Hey! Hey, what happened?”

The small shuffling of limbs was all the signal he needed to grab his canteen and approach the group. He tapped the shoulder of the nearest man, sand turning his kinked locks rusty. 

“Who are you? What happened?”

The man groaned, slowly lifting his head. He squinted against the sun, dirt caked to his pale cheek. Little cuts littered the edges of his face, weakly leaking blood. Eddie kneeled down, carefully wiping sand from his face and offering his canteen. The man took it greedily, gulping a large sip of the liquid within. 

“My name is Stan Uris,” he croaks, slowly moving to sit more upright. 

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” They shake hands. 

Eddie makes his way to the other two men, one large and blond, the other with dark skin and a stormtrooper uniform. They introduced themselves as Ben and Mike, respectively. 

“Where do you guys come from?”

“We’re from the Resistance. We came here on a mission, but now we’re stranded,” Ben said, trying to shake the sand out of his orange flight suit. Eddie raised an eyebrow, vaguely gesturing to Mike.

“What about him? What’s with the stormtrooper get up?” Mike looked up, pausing his efforts to remove the white armour plates from his body. 

“I decided to join the Resistance after my first battle. I’m not really cut out for killing people, I don’t think. I helped these guys escape from the Regime base, but we didn’t get very far…”

“Yeah, I can see that. You guys really look like you could use some help.”  
“That obvious?” Stan scoffed, a strained smirk painted across his face. Eddie raised his eyebrow, then looked down to pick sand out from under his nail. He had an idea, but he wasn’t sure how it would work. He wasn’t sure how his mother would react, and that’s what scared him the most. But he had to do something. 

“Look, there’s a trading outpost not far from here. We could find you a ride back to where ever you guys come from, and you can stay with me until then.”

The group all glanced around, silence palpable. 

“We can’t just impose on you. We don’t have any way to pay you or anything,” Ben finally said, shakily standing. He almost didn’t make it upright. 

“Look, now isn’t the time to be modest. You guys are fucked if I don’t help you. And I’d rather not leave you guys to dehydrate in the desert. So, I’m not really asking, I’m telling.”

Mike raised an eyebrow, and Stan just shrugged.

And that's how all four of them ended up piled into Eddie’s speeder, following the horizon to the outpost. 

Once they arrived, however, the entire atmosphere changed. Nearly every strange being present turned their head to sneak a peek at the rag tag group. Stan and Ben had the sleeves of their flight suits tied around their waists, the obvious Rebel orange catching quite the amount of attention. Mike had at least thought to strip himself of the trademark white stormtrooper armour, instead wearing nothing but the black underclothes that the plates had been attached to. And Eddie, now a familiar face among the regulars, tugged self consciously at his tan, raggedy outfit.

Eddie quickly scuttled over to the rations counter, catching the attention of the man behind the counter. 

“Look, these guys need some help, and fast. Are there any ships leaving in the next few days that have room for a few more passengers?” he asked, allowing a little desperation to trickle into his voice. The clerk scratched his chin, humming in thought.

“I think Pit is leaving in the morning. I might be able to call in a favor for you.”

“Thank you, you’re really helping me out here.”

But the clerk just leaned closer, speaking only loud enough for Eddie to hear. 

“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing with those people, but it looks like a world of trouble. People aren’t really happy with those orange ones.” He gestures to Stan and Ben. “Watch yourself Kaspbrak.”

Eddie swallowed, but nodded as condescending as he possibly could. 

Informing his mother of their unexpected guests, though, was something he couldn’t just will away.

“EDWARD KASPBRAK, WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?!” she shrieked, thick arms flailing as she ran to their small group. Eddie sighed, preparing himself for the anger storm that was fast approaching.

Sonia Kaspbrak was not one to easily let up control. Eddie knew that first hand; he had lived with her his whole life. She loved to keep both of their lives and schedules in a gridlock, immovable and permanent. 

“They crashed their ship. I found them a ride from the outpost tomorrow morning. They’ll just be here for a night.”

Sonia flattened her mouth into a stern line, but didn’t protest. Her expression made it obvious, however, that her and Eddie were going to have a chat later. It made his insides clench. 

“Just watch yourself. We aren’t involved in your little war, so don’t expect more support than this.” And with that, she stormed off to go fuss over something. Eddie followed her, trying to think of anything to say to diffuse the situation. 

“Mama, they would have died if I didn’t pick them up. Nobody deserves to die in that desert, okay? I couldn’t just leave them.”

“You brought the war to us, Edward! Those people will think they can just stop by here anytime they like now.”

Eddie sighed, his mother’s paranoia washing over him and making him cringe. 

“This is purely isolated. I was just doing a good thing. They leave in the morning.”

She still seemed unhappy, but didn’t push the issue. Eddie waited a moment for a response, but when none came, he grabbed a handful of blankets and made his way back to his room to set up makeshift cots. 

He listened carefully as the three strangers chattered amongst themselves, whispering about what they were going to do.

“So, what exactly was the Resistance doing on a planet like Korriban? There’s nothing here but strange looking cliffs and sand,” Eddie said, fluffing out a scratchy tan blanket. Stan and Ben looked at each other, a strange look passing between them. 

“Well, we were part of a fleet. We were sent to follow up on a rumor of a base on this planet,” Stan said, barely a mutter and with little eye contact. 

“Well, I’m guessing the rumor was true?” 

His question was met with three sets of withering looks. 

“Understatement. What we found was the largest Neibolt Regime base in the galaxy, and an army of stormtroopers. We were the only ones not killed in the attack, and we were taken prisoner by Darth Fide,” Stan continued, voice strained. Hearing the name of the Sith spoken aloud made the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand on end, although he couldn’t place why.   
“We were tortured for information for five days. That was, until Mike broke us out and helped us escape.” Ben lifted his shirt to accentuate the point, exposing the still healing wound on his stomach. Eddie felt air rush from between his teeth, cringing with sympathy pain. 

“Bev must be worried sick. I doubt she knows we’re still alive. We don’t even know where the ship is, or what happened after we were captured. And Bill... “ Stan paused to swallow. “Our commander is gone. We have no leadership, no one to follow.”

Mike moved to place a large hand on Stan’s shoulder in an effort to comfort. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do know there is at least one of you that survived. Other than you guys obviously,” he said, voice gentle and smooth. Both pilots turned at breakneck speed, confusion written in plain view.

“What do you mean?”

“I told you I didn’t kill anyone. I had my gun aimed at someone, but I decided to shoot next to him and make it look like I killed him, but I didn’t. I think he just played dead the whole time.”

Eddie watched this discussion with open eyes, enamored by the story he was being told. He was vaguely aware of the fact that there was a war. Honestly, when was there ever not a war? But listening to these strangers had made it all the more real. More personal. Eddie knew his father had been heavily involved at the beginning, and that’s why his mother moved them out to this desolate wasteland. Because his father had died, and Sonia refused to have her son fall to the same fate. 

But Eddie couldn’t just ignore it anymore. It was real now, and if what he’d heard about the Regime base was true, very close. 

He thought about that later that night, lying awake in the dark. His guests gentle breathing filled the room, but it was nothing compared to the deafening roar he felt in his head. He was filled with so many conflicted ideas and feelings, it was like he was an entirely different person. 

That was why he was so surprised when the vacuum finally returned, leaving everything scarily quiet. He took a deep inhale of breath. 

“Hello.” he whispered.

“Hello. Seems like we can’t leave each other alone, can we?” the voice asked, a little less informal than before. 

“It would appear so. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Surprised? Because you can hear someone else in your head?”

Eddie chuckled a little bit; it echoed around, making the void a little lighter. 

“No, not really. I can usually only hear you if my head is clear. Everything is just really foggy right now. I suppose I’m unsure.”

“Unsure?”

“I feel a calling, but I don’t know what exactly that will entail. I guess I’m just scared.”

“Scared of change?” The voice appeared intrigued. 

“Scared of anything other than nothing. That’s what my life has become. Nothing but an empty stretch.”

The voice was silent for a moment, but Eddie knew it was just thinking.

“What do I call you? I know your name isn’t just Nobody.”

“I know yours isn’t either,” Eddie said, but then he paused. “You can call me Eddie.”

His name echoed, and it was like something large had shifted. 

“Eddie. Eddie… I like it. I might even call you Eds. How’s that sound?”

“Absolutely horrible. Please don’t ever call me that.”

“Sounds good, Eds. I guess in that case, you can call me Richie.”

Eddie ignored the awful nickname to relish the new information he’d gleaned. 

“Huh, Richie’s an odd name for some disembodied voice inside my head.”

“So’s Eddie.”

He laughed a little at that. 

But, just as quickly as he’d come, Richie was gone. Instead, Eddie’s name was being called by someone else. He jumped up from his bed, but the chanting was not deterred. It sounded like it was coming from below him.

Basement, he thought, stepping around the people littered on the floor. He tiptoed as quickly as he could, going into their storage room as fast as his feet could carry him. 

He’d only ever been in the basement a few times in his life, his mother only permitting him down there to put dried foods in storage. But once he was down there, it wasn’t the vegetables that caught his attention. It was a large chest, hiding in the corner behind several boxes. Eddie shoved them away as steadfastly as his anxiety-corded body would allow. 

By the time he wretched open the chest, he wasn’t even in control anymore. 

Sitting atop random knick knacks and strange tan clothing, was a tarnished silver handle of sorts. 

Tentatively, Eddie reached out and grabbed it. 

The reaction was immediate. The feeling was something akin to being violently shot back in time. Visions passed around him in a wild storm of history and knowledge. 

He saw a wild lightsaber fight, twelve figures in Jedi robes descending on one dark figure, but they were all quickly vanquished. He saw another man valiantly stand up to the same dark figure, his dark eyes shining with something that both scared and inspired Eddie. Their battle was epic, bright red and yellow blades flailing. But the dark was too strong, and the man was struck down. Eddie screamed, trying in vain to stop it all. But it was too much, every iota of light being crushed. 

Then everything changed. He saw a pair of children, one with a mess of black hair and the other a sandy color. They were both crying, flames and violence surrounding them. 

“I’m sorry, Stanny. I have to go now.”

The flames faded to rain, and Eddie watched as a darkly clothed man writhed and cried out, an imposing figure standing over him. Laughing. It was a terrible thing that rang out and all around. 

The laughing morphed grossly into crying, and suddenly Eddie was watching himself as a child. He was standing next to his mother in front of a simple looking grave. 

Where was his father?

Where was he?

wherewashewherewashewherewashewhere-

He was thrown back against the ground, back to the present in his basement. The strange tube was still clenched in his hand. 

“Eddie?”

He quickly jumped up, turning on his heel. There in the doorway, shrouded in darkness, was his mother. Her eyes were wide in shock. 

“Where did you find that?”

Eddie paused. 

“It… called to me. It was calling me and I followed it. I saw… I saw everything.”

“No, I won’t have you ending up like your father. Put it back and go back to bed.”

“No.”

Sonia was shocked. 

“No?”

“Mama, this is important. I can feel it.”

“No Edward. The Jedi killed your father, I won’t have you die from them too.”

Eddie swallowed. 

“What do you mean?”

“Your father was a Jedi. He died in the first battle that started this war. That’s his lightsaber.” She sounded almost ashamed. Eddie looked down at the object in his hand. The metal had become warm in his hand, and he carefully inspected every groove and scar on its surface. His finger hovered over the button he knew would activate the blade. 

When he pressed it, he was faced with a bright pole of amber-yellow light, illuminating the dark room and casting shadows across the walls. It felt easier than anything to hold it. 

“You know I can’t stay with you forever,” Eddie said, sheathing the blade in the handle again. 

“... yes, I know. But I had to protect you. I had you keep you away from all that violence. It’s not right, what’s happening in the galaxy right now.”

Eddie nodded, understanding. 

The next morning, he helped Ben, Stan, and Mike load bags of rations and spare clothes into his speeder, his own bags joining in. 

“Are you sure you want to come with us?” Stan asked, placing a supportive hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s time for me to do something.” 

Stan smiled, then gestured to where Eddie’s mom was standing. 

“May the force be with you!” she called out, waving as the group piled into the vehicle. 

Eddie nodded, waved at his mother, and raced off across the sand.


	5. V.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt more alone now than he had back then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the kinda short chapter, but there's a big fat one coming after this. Thank you guys so much for the overwhelming support! It's seriously the thing that keeps me interested in writing sometimes, and every comment makes my day.
> 
> Thank you again to my betas, Nick and Silvia. I love them till infinity.
> 
> Just so you guys know, Fide is latin for Loyalty, which plays a lot into Richie's character. Assem is latin for Penny, so Pennywise's name in this fic is literally Darth Penny the Wise (yeah, I'm dumb, I know).

Richie sat alone in his room, which was not unusual for him. But he was nervous. Oh, heavens above was he nervous.

He had a meeting with Darth Assem. 

He hated meetings with his master. He knew that Assem would be deeply upset to know that the prisoners had escaped and had to be shot down. They hadn’t been able to get any useful information out of them, either. 

Richie also fretted that Assem would know about the voice. Eddie. It was the one secret he had, and he hoped it would remain that way. He had no idea who Eddie was or if he was real, but he knew he didn’t want his master anywhere near him. He had felt it when Eddie had shown him light, where he was from. The warm feeling of sun on his face, dirt below his hands. He almost missed it.

Everywhere Richie was became cold. He’d felt cold for so long.

But the cold was where he belonged. It was where he was accepted, sought after. He had a purpose here.

He finally lifted himself up from his bed, donning his signature robe and pulling the hood low over his face. That was one of the most defining features of his persona; completely dark and hidden, except his mouth. His final word was his victim’s final sight.

He couldn’t help but notice how every stormtrooper straightened just a little bit when he walked past, a towering figure of pitch against a sea of white. None of the troops would have been able to sense the terror festering inside of Richie’s mind. The person he was going to see was the only one who could.

Assem’s throne room was a strange sight. There were panes of red glass covering the top of the cylindrical room, making everything awash with a bloody hue. Above his magnificent chair floated supposedly random chunks of metal, machinery, and what appeared to be severed body parts; trophies, every single one. And the Sith himself sat on his throne, yellow eyes practically glowing in delight, his movements toward Richie unnerving and supernatural.

“Ah, my most stupendous apprentice. We’ve had quite the eventful few days, haven’t we?” he said, voice light and full of hidden laughter. It made Richie’s insides coil.

“Yes sir.”

“Don’t do that. You only do that when you think I’m going to be angry. Do you think I’m going to be angry?”

Richie didn’t dare answer aloud; they both knew the answer.

“Well, you are right. I am angry. Do you know why?”

Richie swallowed, forcing his voice to remain steady.

“Because the prisoners escaped.”

“Because the prisoners escaped? Ooh, that’s a good guess, Fide. But no. While yes, I am frankly irked that we lost a source of information, they were shot down. So it’s not like they can take anything back to that slut Marsh. However, there is still someone alive who managed to escape.”

Richie’s head snapped up in surprise, eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you mean, someone escaped?”

“What I mean is that our stormtroopers are shit, and they left a pilot alive enough to escape. There’s footage of an x-wing taking off.”  
He allowed this information to wash over him. A pilot was left alive. In an odd moment of association, Richie thought of Stan. His heart clenched at the thought of his old friend, who now lay dead in the Korriban desert. He quickly shook it out before Assem could notice.

“I have reason to believe you aren’t being thorough, Fide. I can sense your weariness even now. Must I remind you what Fide even means?” Assem’s voice was dripping in the sickly sweet venom of some hypnotic snake.

“Loyalty.”

“Yes, loyalty. Loyalty to what, exactly?”

“The Dark Side, and you.”

“That’s right. See, you get it, I know you do. But yet I sense turmoil. You feel remorse for that Uris boy. One of Maturin’s old brats, not unlike you. But you see, you had the sense to rise above, and look at where you are. Not lying dead in the desert. Remember that.”  
And with that, Richie was dismissed.

He didn’t dare think about Stan until he was back alone in his room. Stan, who he’d trained alongside for years, and the only one spared when he’d demolished the last remaining Jedi. He had seen the look in his eyes when he and the other pilot were captured. Something akin to fear as well as acceptance, and a sadness deeper than any ocean. But Richie was loyal, even to a fault. Now Stan was dead, leaving Richie with the sting of regret and an infinite tiredness.

It was times like that that he could barely even remember why he’d done what he’d done, joining the dark side when he was birthed from the light. His parents were both long dead; his mother, the senator and his father, the Jedi. Both busy and absent people, even before his father was killed in the first battle that destroyed everything that had been built by the Jedi.

He never truly fit in with the other kids who trained under Maturin, their old master. Except for Stan, everyone wrote him off and left him to be alone. He had no one. Not until he heard Assem for the first time. Assem being in his head was so unlike Eddie; it was more a whisper, a suggestion. And Assem promised many things; never feeling alone, never having to listen to those who didn’t care about him, always having someone to go to.

Of course he went with it. He had to. He had only been a child, no more than 13 years old.

He felt more alone now than he had back then.

As though someone could sense his turmoil, he was suddenly pulled into the audible vacuum he’d come to look forward to.

“Hello.”

“Hi Eddie. Couldn’t stand another day without hearing my beautiful voice?”

“You wish. I dunno, I feel like this whole connecting thing is getting easier.”

“That so?”

Richie could tell Eddie was a little excited. If he was being honest, he was too.

“Yeah. I dunno, I’ve kinda had a lot of weird stuff happen to me the past two days,” Eddie said, a bit of exhaustion dripping from his tone.

“Weird stuff? Sounds fun.”

Eddie laughed a little.

“Less fun than you’d think. It’s more like my life has been cracked open, and all of these things keep pouring out. I’m not living with my mother anymore.”

“Wait, you lived with your mother all this time?”

Richie could practically feel the burn of his embarrassment through the bond.

“Yeah, it was pretty damn miserable. But I’m moving now. It was a kind of last minute decision, but the people I’m going with are pretty cool.”

“Please tell me you’re starting a cantina band. Or wait, better yet, you’re going to become a blue milk farmer.”

“That is disgusting. Do you even know where blue milk comes from?”

“Nope. But I’m guessing you’re going to tell me.”

Eddie huffed a little, and Richie couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Nope, I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

And just like that, the vacuum was gone. Richie gritted his teeth; he really needed to figure out exactly what the bond was.

He needed to figure out his life in general, because he was becoming less and less certain that he was doing the right thing.

He didn’t think it was the dark pulling him anymore.


	6. VI.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Commander Denbrough, here.”
> 
> “Bill, hurry to the bridge. We just got a message from an approaching ship. I think you’ll want to hear this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta/ boyfriend Nick (who has never seen Star Wars btw). 
> 
> Please please keep sending me messages. Not to sound that way, but validation keeps me alive. 
> 
> For those of you curious, stenbrough is going to be in this story, so let me know what you think.

Bill woke up to his comm device beeping like it was about to explode. The first thought that popped into his head was oh God, we’re being attacked. He looked over to tell Stan, forgetting for a moment that his roommate was no longer there. He pressed the dialogue button on the device’s side, preparing for the worst. 

“Commander Denbrough, here.”

“Bill, hurry to the bridge. We just got a message from an approaching ship. I think you’ll want to hear this.”

Beverly hadn’t even finished her sentence before he was pulling his boots on over his sleep clothes, sprinting out of his quarters toward the front of the ship. Most everyone was asleep, which Bill was thankful for. His face burned with embarrassment at just the thought of anyone seeing him racing through the halls in nothing but pajamas.

Once he reached the bridge, he realized he wasn’t alone.

Beverly stood in her night clothes as well, the few stray admirals present in much the same way. Her green eyes were shadowed in purple, the tell tale sign of someone who had not slept in a long time. Her hair was a wild mess of auburn, and she fidgeted nervously. High strung was a phrase that could have accurately described her state. Bill placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and turned to look at the large monitor in front of them.

“Admiral, play the message again,” Beverly said, voice scratchy and pained. A man to their right scuttled away to do as he was asked, and the message played again.

“This is Captain Stanley Uris. Both Ben and I have managed to escape from the Korriban base, and have gained two more crew members. We’ve catalogued several minor injuries, but otherwise alive and unharmed. As of the time of this message, we are approaching the Rebel vessel, Silver. See you soon.”

Bill’s mouth ran dry. Stan and Ben were alive. He could hardly even believe it.

Bill had been guilt ridden ever since he escaped Korriban, leaving his captured fleet members behind. Running away in his x-wing, just to tell Beverly what happened. They hadn’t had a plan as to how they’d get Stan and Ben out, if they were even still alive. He could himself muttering his old stuttering exercises to himself, trying to will away his anxiety. Would they be angry that he didn’t do more? Would they blame him? In an odd, intrusive way, his mind wandered to that stormtrooper. The one that spared his life. Whatever happened to him? Did Fide and all them know that he was saved by one of their own?

“General, the ship is requesting approach and temporary docking. Grant access?”

“Yes, yes, of course. We need to get our boys home and safe as soon as possible.”

Beverly turned to Bill and placed a gentle hand on his arm, gazing sadly at him with her piercing eyes.

“I can tell you’re anxious, but don’t be. We both know that there was nothing you could have done to get them out on your own. They’ll just be happy to see that you’re safe and alive. So, let’s go get them.”

Bill nodded, forcing a calming breath out his nose. Beverly slipped her small hand into his, guiding him slowly down the halls to the flight bay.   
In the distance, they could see the outline of a ship fast approaching the bay. With bated breath, they watched as it slowly lowered itself into their vessel. It hissed and blew steam once it landed, creaking as the hatch opened.

Bill’s entire universe lit up as he saw his comrades race out to greet them. Stan quickly gripped him in a rare hug, arms gripping tightly at his shoulders. Ben and Beverly were in a similar position, Bev openly weeping as she released all of the worry she’d been holding onto. They then switched, Ben giving Bill a short but genuine embrace, Stan rubbing a gentle hand down Beverly’s arm. 

It was a beautiful moment, but it was shattered with the sound a throat clearing. 

Bill and Beverly finally looked up to see the two new recruits standing several yards away, awkwardly standing next to their belongings.

“I’m so sorry, we’re being terribly rude,” Beverly said, slipping effortlessly into her general’s voice. She walked over and extended a hand, which they both shook in turn.

“I’m Eddie. I found these three in the desert on Korriban. This is Mike.”

“Well, I’m glad you two are here. There’s always a place here for those who want to help.”

Eddie nodded, but Mike seemed distracted. He was looking directly at Bill, almost like he was seeing a ghost. His dark eyes were opened wide, a faint redness adorning his face in possible embarrassment. 

Bill hung back as everyone began to migrate to the med bay, walking in tandem with Mike.

“Are y-you alright? You seem like something is wrong.”

Mike hesitated, speaking barely above a whisper.

“I saved your life.”

“What?”

“I saved your life, back on Korriban. I was the stormtrooper that told you to play dead. I helped Stan and Ben escape the base.”

Bill’s stomach rumbled with worry.

“So you just left the Regime? Just like that?”

Mike nodded solemnly.

“That day was my first mission. I couldn’t kill anyone, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to. So, I helped them escape so I could help. I don’t want any more people than need to die in this war.”   
It was a powerful statement, one that Bill could definitely respect. He himself had already lost too much in this war. But he couldn’t help but be sceptical. He knew that people didn’t change so easily, and that Mike could be a spy. But the angle was all wrong. Who goes through the trouble of sparing a random stranger’s life, one that was considered an enemy?

“Well, I am glad that I get to thank you personally. For saving my life and all that,” Bill said finally, extending a hand. Mike shook it in earnest, cracking a genuine grin.

“It was hardly any trouble at all. I’d gladly do it again.”

He thought about that later when he lay in his room, listening to the sound of Stan breathing in the bed next to his. He could tell his roommate was awake, but yet he kept his mouth firmly shut.   
He liked Stan, he truly did. He was quiet and neat, but also slightly snarky when he spoke. He was a great friend, and their conversations flowed easily. But tonight, Bill was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say to the man who’d just endured a hell he’d skated past? The man who’d been tortured and shot from the sky? The man with bandages afixed around his face to cover his ship wreck injuries?

Guilt was not an uncommon emotion to Bill. He felt it at every casualty, every mission gone wrong. He felt it after his brother, Georgie, had died in a foolish attempt to take down one of the Regime’s largest ships. Every loss stung like a slash from a whip, bleeding into his subconscious at every turn.

But what could he say when the source of his newest guilt lay mere feet away?

“I can hear you thinking, Bill. Doesn’t make for good sleep.”

He flinched, looking over towards Stan’s bed. He could only barely make out his figure lying on his back, hands folded over his stomach.

“Sorry. I’ll think more q-quietly, I guess?”

Stan chuckled a bit, turning more on his side to look at Bill.

“Bev told me that you feel guilty.”

“I do not feel guilty. It’s not like I could have just stormed into that base by myself and broken you out. There wasn’t anything I could have done.”  
The silence was brimming with unspoken disbelief and anxiety. 

“Bill, I say this with complete seriousness; you shouldn’t feel guilty. Yes, everything about being captive sucked, and yes, I probably won’t have good sleep for a long time. But being captured wasn’t your fault. It had everything to do with Richie and-”

“Wait, who’s Richie?”

Stan was abruptly silent, turning back to his original position. Bill huffed, moving quickly to sit on the edge of Stan’s bed.

“No, you do not get to shut down on me. Who’s Richie?”

“Fuck off, Bill.”

Bill waited a moment, flexing his fingers and scrambling to think of something to say. 

“Look, you obviously aren’t doing great right now. I want to help, okay? I need to know these things in order to do that. I know you can be secretive, and that’s fine, but I’m someone who cares about you.”

Stan still seemed apprehensive, but he eventually sighed and sat up. 

“Okay, fine. But nobody else can know, okay? This isn’t something I’d like people to know.”

Bill nodded, secretly relishing in the information he was about to glean. 

“I know Darth Fide. I have since I was a kid, but back then I knew him as Richie Tozier.”

To say Bill was shocked would have been a large understatement. 

“What? How could you have known him?”

Stan fiddled with the edge of his shirt, obviously reluctant to share.

“Do you know how the Jedi were killed by Assem? He wiped out every single one, including the 12 oldest masters. Or so he thought. Maturin was the only one who survived. So, after lying low for a few years, he began training a group in the hopes of making a new generation of Jedi. Richie and I were both there to train.”

“Wait, so you’re a Jedi?”

“No, I’m not a Jedi. I can use the force and all that, but I don’t follow the religion.”

Bill let that sink in. So many things made sense now; Stan sensing things that weren’t on the scanners, making complicated flight maneuvers, little things like that.

“Do you have a lightsaber?” he asked, trying hard not to crack a grin.

“No, Bill. I don’t have a lightsaber. I joined the Resistance to get away from all of that. I tried to run from my past, but it’s caught up with me.” He paused to take a breath, obviously upset. “I was the only one Richie spared when he turned. Everyone else was killed in the fire except Maturin. He tried to make me stay, but I couldn’t.”  
Bill’s heart hurt for Stan. Listening to his story and watching the sheer sadness and regret littered over his friend’s face was like taking a blaster shot to the gut. He shifted a little closer to Stan on the bed, placing a comforting hand on his knee. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry about all that. I get why you didn’t tell anyone, so your secret is safe with me. We all have our skeletons.”

Stan nodded, then surged forward to lock Bill in an embrace. This was the second one of that night, but Bill couldn’t complain. He just held him in turn, treasuring their newfound closeness. 

“Thank you for understanding. It means a lot,” Stan mumbled into Bill’s shoulder. 

“Well, you were there for me when Georgie died. I’m just glad I got to return the favor.”

Bill was still thinking about it even later that night, long after Stan had gone to sleep. He couldn’t help but be worried for him, and he only hoped that he could continue to help. Because if he was being honest with himself, he really liked helping Stan. 

He just hoped Stan would continue to let him.


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m pretty sure we both thought I was going to be dead, so I thought I’d come see you,” then, a little quieter, “I missed you a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it's been literally forever, but I've decided to keep going with this fic. I realized how much I love it, so consider this bad boy officially back! I've changed a few things from my original plan, but I've kept it mostly the same. It is still a primarily Reddie oriented fic, but the other two couples and friendships also play a HUGE role. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and as always, please leave me some feedback!

Ben was beyond ecstatic to be back on home turf. He really was. He nearly burst into tears when he saw Bev standing there in the loading bay, waiting for him. She was one of the few things that kept him holding out hope during his days on Korriban, and there she was. 

He noticed later that she obviously hadn’t been sleeping, and that worried him more than anything. Was she staying up, riddled with concern for her captured friends? Was she facing repercussions for conducting a failed mission?

He wondered all this as he snuck down to Beverly’s room that same night, keeping a wary eye out for any stragglers in the halls. He knocked gently, a simple tapping against the cold metal of the door. 

Bev’s face was a total mess of unregistered emotion when she answered, her auburn hair tangled and matted around her face.

“What do you want Ben?” She didn’t say it with any annoyance, just extreme exhaustion. 

“I’m pretty sure we both thought I was going to be dead, so I thought I’d come see you,” then, a little quieter, “I missed you a lot.”

She bit her lip, weighing her options. She finally just sighed and pulled Ben inside by his arm. Her bed was pristinely made, and it looked as though it had been undisturbed for several days. Several holographic monitors were mounted on the walls and placed on the small desk. Clothes were flung across the floor haphazardly. Beverly pinked, trying to secretly shift them from view with her foot.

“Beverly, have you been sleeping? Like at all?” Ben asked, taking in the sight before him.

“Honestly… no, I haven’t. But I needed to find a way to get you guys out. Truthfully, a lot of the higher ups weren’t very happy with the idea of us sending any more people to the base, but they didn’t have to know. Anyway, it didn’t really work out the way I planned-”

She stopped abruptly as Ben stepped forward to grip her in a tight embrace. She quickly sunk into it, wrapping her arms around Ben’s middle.

“We’re here now, Bev. I know that you were worried, but please sleep, okay?” She nodded, allowing Ben to place his chin on her head. 

“I want to hear about you first. We only got to hear the technical version of what happened. How are you?”

“I’ve been better. I got my gut busted open during an interrogation session, but it's not too bad. You saw it in the med bay. I was pretty terrified, though.”

Beverly nodded, moving away from Ben to sit on the bed. He followed shortly behind, sitting on the edge. 

“I kinda thought that we were going to die there. I’m really glad that Mike came along, otherwise we might have. And then our cruiser was shot down. I dunno, we were on the brink nearly every day.” Ben cleared his throat, hoping his next statement wouldn’t be out of line. “Honestly, the thought of getting back to you is what kept me going.”

“You don’t mean that,” Bev said, but her grin and slight blush gave her away. Ben grinned, ruffling her hair a little. 

“Every word. And hey, we got two new crew members, so it’s not all bad.”

Bev sort of nods, moving over to lay a head on Ben’s shoulder. He nestles his nose in her hair, bringing a hand up to curl a stray strand around his finger. 

“I’m really glad that you made it out alive. I’m glad that you’re all back and safe. We’ve all been worried sick.”

Ben let her words sink in, trying to wring any hidden meaning out of her words. He’d known her since they were children, but as they got older, she got better at hiding her real feelings. Ben liked to think he was an expert at whittling away her facades, but sometimes he wasn’t so sure. 

Sometimes he had to take a risk, shredding his fingers prying her blockades open. 

“You know I love you, right?”

Beverly’s shoulders tensed just a little. 

“I know.” 

It was a quick, cold statement. Detached. Ben’s heart clenched painfully. He gently placed a hand to her face, stroking at a cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. She leaned into the touch just a little, green eyes filled with a peculiar type of fear. 

“You don’t have to say it back, Bev. I’m stating a fact, not pushing you into a feeling. Okay?”

“I know.” 

But this time, she smiled just a little, seeming at least a little more at ease. 

Ben returned her grin, moving his head a little closer. Close enough to feel her warm breath against his cheek, far enough for her to move away. 

But Beverly never did. She closed the gap between them, softly bringing their lips together. It was unrushed, unheated. Just a chance to feel close and comforted with each other, knowing that the other was really there and safe.

Kisses like this were not something that happened often between the two these days, and Ben filed away as much as he could in his mind. It was times like that that he really wished the war was a thing of the past, and that Bev’s father hadn’t put so much pressure on his daughter by use of his horrid reputation. He hadn’t treated Beverly or his crew right, and now she was forced to pay the price for it. 

But that’s exactly what Ben loved about Beverly; she was a resilient being, born of light and held together by a refusal to do what others expected. She remained disciplined in the face of adversity, yet kind and soft when the dust settled. She took care of those who did not have the ability to do so themselves. Ben had always felt himself turning toward her, basking like a plant to a sun. When he said he loved her, it was the least he could have said.   
Ben pulled away from the kiss as slowly as humanly possible, rubbing a gentle thumb across Beverly’s jaw as he did. Her green eyes betrayed her attempt at strength, giving way to a mixture of worry, relief, and something he couldn’t quite place. Regret? Fear? Disbelief? It was possibly a combination of the three. 

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll be alright. We’re home now, we have the intel, we can make our next move. But for now, please get some rest Bev.” She placed her hand on the one Ben still held to her face, lacing her fingers through it. 

“Okay, I will.” Beverly ran her thumb gently over the back of Ben’s hand, the small circles leaving warmth in their wake. “Thank you, for coming to see me. It’s good to have you back.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I should probably get back to my room, though. We both need our rest.”

Beverly nodded, and Ben thought he’d seen a glimmer of disappointment flash across her face. It might have just been wishful thinking on his part. 

He slowly untangled himself from Beverly, quietly padding over to the door. But just as he was about to pass through it, he heard a soft voice.

“Hey Ben?”

He turned his head back.

“Yes Bev?”

“I love you, too. I thought you should know.”

Ben smiled a little.

“I know.”


End file.
